


The Sharp Claw Ruse

by SundialBloom



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: Listen its a murder mystery idk what to tell you, M/M, mostly in relation to the murders but like, some gore, this is set in an ambiguous region, time line is messed around a bit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-14
Updated: 2019-03-14
Packaged: 2019-11-18 01:08:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18110237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SundialBloom/pseuds/SundialBloom
Summary: Being a private detective who is roommates with a pokézoologist can be tough, long hours, waking up early, and a slew of interesting pokémon coming in and out of their doors at all hours. However, Nick Lancaster made it work, that is until a string of murders leads to an investigation of not only his roommate, but himself. With only his partner and his roommate Milo on his side, Nick has to puzzle together the mystery of who killed who and why, and maybe clear his name somewhere along the way.





	The Sharp Claw Ruse

Nick Lancaster wakes up that morning completely unable to breathe. The fur in his mouth is a tell-tale sign of his fate, and he coughs hoarsely, pushing off his herdier, Martha, from where she’s sprawled across his face and chest. Feeling the slight effects of suffocation, Nick Fumbles with his bed sheets and swings his legs off the mattress, stopping at the unhappy huff-growl that slowly emerged from where Martha was now buried beneath blankets. Struggling to find his Pokémon, Nick unearthed Martha from the covers he had piled on her and tried his chance at forgiveness by scratching at her favorite spot, just behind the ears. A pleased whine escaped the canine leaving Nick to feel comfortable enough to rise from his bed and start his day.

He begins by freshening up in the bathroom, doing his regular routine and what-have-yous, before leaving to put on clothes. He shuffles in his closet for a while, struggling to find his favorite pair of pants before a quiet snore interrupts his thoughts. Looking back at the bed, Martha had stolen his warm cozy spot, coiling tightly around the very pants he needed. It was a slow and laborious process, but eventually, he manages to free it from his pokémon without waking her up.

As he’s passing through the hall he can hear the shuffle of life in the living room and the pointed clicks of ponyta’s hooves on their kitchen tiles. Which means that Milo is awake. Nick swipes his hands through his hair in an effort of slightly taming it before he sees his roommate. When he exits the hallway he sees Milo is sitting on the granite surface of their kitchenette, taking a close look at the bronze like headwear Milo’s Type: Null sports. He’s holding a toothbrush and scrubbing at edges and crevices in the mask, causing a low metallic purr to ring and vibrate through the apartment. It’s a bit of a habit, both for his roommate and the pokemon, a way of massaging and relieving a bit of the pain the pokemon was always in, and an opportunity to teach and gain trust from it.

Milo does not seem to have noticed his presence, only pausing slightly in acknowledgment when type: null’s purrs startle at Nick's sudden entrance. He continues on, brushing seams and hidden spots in a methodical rhythm.

“Good morning,” Nick says in belated greeting, walking around the strange synthetic pokemon and opening a cupboard to grab a mug. Milo hums in reply. This is mostly how a majority of their mornings go, Nick, getting ready for work and Milo doing his work, whether it be grooming his pokemon or doing an urgent surgery on a pidgey that fell in the night. Nick doesn’t expect a reply, or much of anything from Milo, but is surprised when the man speaks up, pausing in his daily routine to say:

“You got a call from the department this morning at two am,” he says quickly, turning Type: Null's head to check for missed spots, “Harper needs as much sleep as possible after starting the medication, so I put your phone on ignore,” Nick blinks, mouth in a straight line as he takes in the sentence. He swears softly and scrambles back to his room, nearly bumping into ponyta who was enjoying slightly sliding on the tiles nearby, the blue-maned equine snorts as she startles and nearly falls. He almost forgets to apologize as he moves, but he knows she's already forgiven him by the gentle whinny left in his wake.

Martha is awake by now and looking at him curiously from the bed sheets as he practically dives for his phone, looking at the absolutely terrifying 22 missed calls from the department and 14 texts from his coworkers. He groans annoyingly and throws on a coat that at least reads as semi-professional and grabs his badge. No time for a shower, and worse, no time for coffee. He whistles a tune on his way out of the room and herdier is quick to follow, grabbing his bag from the end of his bed and chasing after him.

He’s annoyed with Milo, and he lets it be known, slamming the door to their apartment shut roughly, only feeling a little bad when he sees the man flinch. Later he assumes he’ll come to regret the decision, his roommate and friend just trying to care for his Paras, but at the moment anger wraps itself in his movements. After all, there’s been a murder, and he’s four hours late.

When he gets to the crime scene his co-worker, Lia, is already chewing him out, her arms are crossed and the look on her face tells him that he’s in deep shit. He calls out Martha, who immediately sniffs tentatively at the ground, peering curiously across the way, past the police tape and the victim just a ways away.

Lia shifts on her feet. “I’m going to go talk to the witnesses and bystanders, take a look at the crime scene all you want, we’ve already got all the information while you were busy snoozing.” She was clearly irritated, clipped tone stilted and stiff as she quickly walks away, to what he presumes, is to talk to witnesses. Nick sighs and raises the police tape, ducking under and being mindful of Martha, who rushes past and immediately starts taking in the scene.

Olivia, his partner and forensics specialist, and most importantly, wannabe detective, is already hovering over the body, scribbling notes and flipping through a notebook. She catches his eye and smiles welcomingly, and gestures him closer so she may bring him up to date on info. Nick crouches down next to the body, pressing Martha back with the palm of his hand to stop her in her tracks. She always was a bit overly curious, but she wasn’t always good at making sure she didn’t step in blood and contaminate the crime scene with her paw prints.

Nick looked down at the man below him, regarding him with a sense of pity. The man was dead, skull caved in with lacerations and bruises scattered all across his body. There were bite marks on his arms and the blood spill around him was gruesome, but not surprising.

Nick stood up from his crouched position, carefully grabbing some gloves from Olivia and slipping them on before getting on his knees to better examine the body. Olivia, the forensics analyst took this as a sign to start rattling information.

“Michael Grimes, Caucasian male, age 34, found this morning by two middle schoolers who were on their way home from school,” She begins, standing just a bit away and looking over her notes. Nick hums softly in acknowledgment, adjusting the head so he could get a better look at the damage around his neck and chest. Olivia’s Cutiefly buzzes close to his face and fights off the urge to swat at it, it was only doing its job after all.

“He has fractured skull, done in with blunt force trauma, although, from the markings and the surface area hit, it seems as though it took quite a few times before the killer was able to breach the inner walls.”

“Suspect was either small or weak. Couldn’t apply enough force to immediately break through the skull.” Nick whispers, moving the man's clothing, he eyed the gaping hole in his chest. Olivia watched his gaze and sniffed.

“We had a Kadabra and pokemon specialist come by the scene just a couple of hours ago, they identified the markings to be the claw marks of a Weavile or Sneasel. However, we are still getting the bite marks tested, but it’s believed to be a canine of sorts.” Nick frowned and stood up stiffly, he took his gloves off and dispensed them nearby.

“They think a Weavile did this?” He asked, making his way out of the alleyway. Olivia shrugged and followed. Carefully avoiding the pools of blood and other officers that littered the scene.

“I suppose it only makes sense, doesn’t it? What else could cause such injuries?” Nick hummed, putting his hands in his pockets. Something didn't feel right about the assessment. He felt Martha brush against his leg and looked down. She met his gaze and barked roughly, pleased to finally have his attention and walked stiffly towards an ignored section beside a crevice in the buildings and where trash had piled up over time. Nick gives Olivia an apologetic look and bounds over, crouching low to get a closer look. Martha doesn’t move, and Nick realizes she’s waiting for permission.

“It’s okay Herdier, you’re cleared for investigation,” Olivia says nearby. Given the okay, Martha begins prodding at the mound of garbage and dirt. she digs and shifts the garbage around before stopping at what seems to be a folded up piece of cloth. Olivia comes over and hands Nick some fresh gloves, sliding them on quickly before picking up the cloth. It was old, well worn. The frayed ends, stitch consistency, and remnants of a seam tell of it being an old yellow dishrag of sorts. That was less interesting, unfortunately for overall it was stained with multiple fluids, some black like oil and-

“It’s got blood on it,” Nick says loudly, and Lia rushes over from where she’s been talking to another officer. However, it’s heavy in his hands. Delicately he unfurls the wrapped item, revealing a metallic sheen. In his hands is a bloody chunk of metal in the shape he can’t quite comprehend. Olivia strides over with a baggy to put it in, and just as he sees it, its whisked away for analysis.

 

 

He’s sitting at his desk, Martha curled around his feet, when Olivia drops a folder in his lap.

“Images and info from analytics came back about our mysterious metal.” She crosses around his desk and sits loudly in someone else’s rolling chair, scooting it closer to Nick’s desk and resting her head in her hands with imploringly. Nick raises an eyebrow.

“And…?” Olivia smiles with excitement, tapping on the folder incessantly. Nick sighs and props it open, taking hold of one of the many printed photos of their specimen. The slab was thoroughly swabbed, all data of the liquids coated to it preserved elsewhere, leaving the full image for them to look at. It looked almost like the end of a prosthetic kneecap, or armored shell for a Rhyhorn or skarmory. Small etchings and designs swirled and accompanied it, elegant and precise. If he didn’t know better Nick would have thought it to be an ancient heirloom.

“They haven’t been able to identify what material it’s made of. We’re having to bring in researchers and specialists from Sinnoh, Hoenn, and Alola to come talk and compare meteorite samples and elements not commonly found here.” Nick looks at her closely, noting the dimple in her slight smile and light tap to her feet.

“I’m guessing you have a theory?’ Olivia claps and spins her chairing, shouting “Bingo!” before stopping abruptly to slam her hands on the desk, cutiefly darts from where it often naps in her hair, possibly awakened by the movement, and flutters down to sit with Martha. Nick smiles and decides to indulge her, waving an encouraging hand, a signal for her to continue.

“I believe we have the workings of another organization on our hands,” Olivia confided dramatically shifting her eyes left from right, “I’ve been looking at past reports and nothing really matches up with this case but…” she twirls her hands around, finalizing a pose with flourish, “it could be the start of something big y’know?”

“Well, is there any organizations you have in mind?” Nick asks, shifting the case file to the side and shutting it neatly. Olivia scrunches her face in thought, opening and closing her mouth as if to speak, then hesitantly perching on the end of his desk.

“Team Rocket Maybe?” Olivia offers, unsure. Nick shakes his head.

“Don’t think so, they’ve mostly been disbanded, and we haven’t had a report or incident with them for over 5 years. although, they are more technologically inclined.”

“Galactic?”

“I’m not sure, Cyrus died years ago which doesn’t really give them a basis for starting up again, besides, they weren’t the type to turn to murder immediately, more like slow political power and control over a city or area through means of force or money.” He prods a finger into the case file, pulling out a couple of the photos and gazing intently at the slab of metal carefully, trailing his eyes over the etchings and material.

“Either way, whoever made or used this clearly understood it’s biochemical makeup,” he peers closer, ”The perpetrator, I figure, works in the field of welding, or potentially a tech-advancement agency.” Olivia nods, thinking it over. For a moment the case just sits there idle in their mind.

“How’s Milo?” She says abruptly, plucking Nick’s long gone cold coffee from beside his monitor and sipping it tentatively. Nick grimaces.

“He’s…” Nick fumbles with his words, “-fine. started Harper on her medication and has primarily been focusing on a new rescue.” Olivia’s eyes brighten with interest, she scoots in her chair to get a little closer. She’s always been a tad fascinated with his roommate, his job and the many pokemon he helps. Which was understandable, Milo was quite the interesting poké-zoologist, interacting with pokémon and working to ensure their safety rather than studying from afar.

“Is it a Lapras? Oh Arceus, Nick if it’s a Lapras you have to let me come over.” Nick chuckles, flattening the wrinkles in his dress shirt. Herdier butts her head against his leg, annoyed by the lack of attention and he pets at her idly, ignoring the fluttering buzz of cutiefly landing on the edge of his coffee mug, taking an experimental sip and making a startled noise by the flavor.

“It’s not a Lapras,” Olivia pouts, “but it’s not a pokemon I’ve ever seen before,” Nick admits, fiddling with a pen at his desk and thinking back to his morning. The gravely metallic purr vibrating through the walls and settling weirdly in his chest, and the creaking moans and metal filings at night. His head continues to drag him through this morning's events, raking an emotional comb through his frustration of sleeping in. He thinks about Milo carefully taking care of Type: Null's hygiene, and the startled panc look as he flinched when Nick slammed the apartment door shut. A heavy feeling settled in his chest and he glances at the mounted clock on a nearby support beam. It’s just as he feared, his shift was almost over.

Stifling a groan, Nick stands up grabbing stray garbage from his lunch and dumping it in his mini trash can under his desk. As he begins packing up Olivia grabs his sleeve, a glimmer of worry in her eye. “You’ve been dreading clocking out all day, don’t think I haven’t noticed, Mr. Brood and Angsty. Did something happen with Milo?” Nick tugs back his sleeve uncomfortably, reshaping it and checking his cufflinks. He huffs.

“I uh, messed up a bit this morning. Let out my frustrations about being late on him.” Olivia rises herself, pushing the chair she stole back to the co-worker’s desk she took it from.

“Well, are you going to apologize?” She says, placing the photographs back in the case file and picking the manilla folder up under her arms. Cutiefly whizzes past his head and he blinks roughly, watching it disappear into Olivia’s hair.

He shifts on his feet strangely, shuffling his coat on. “I suppose I should, shouldn’t I?” he says softly, watching Martha jump into his chair and stare at him expectantly.

“Listen, I’m not sure what you did, but maybe pick up something he likes on your way home? Than you can apologize but with the fantastic bonus of a slight apologetic bribe.” Nick considers the statement for a moment, organizing his route home in mind and thinking of the stores he passed on the way to the bus stop.

“He likes doing stuff for his pokémon, there’s, uh, this treat and toy place around the corner I could stop at.” Olivia beams, patting him on the shoulder.

“There you go! Now get out of here, I still have four hours left here and seeing you get to leave is hurting my psyche.” Nick chuckles grabbing his bag and whistling another tune, walking and listening to the patter of nails against the hardwood floor as Martha follows.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first pokémon fic. askdfjldfhkad and yes it has original characters. this is mostly for fun! so uh, sorry if it doesn't update often.


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